


Dessert

by oodal (softkyun)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chocolate, Food, M/M, Oral, blowjob, please don't even look at me i am. absolute trash...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softkyun/pseuds/oodal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aone is weirdly jittery, and also strangely adamant about making dessert. Asahi doesn't expect a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dessert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImWithEnjolras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImWithEnjolras/gifts).



> this is my tiny rarepair OTP and i can't escape it send help. if help is found please also share it with mira, we're trapped here. i was so embarrassed writing this i am becoming asahi send help

"You're going to make dinner tonight? For us?"

Asahi glances over his shoulder to where Aone sits at his countertop, sitting with his shoulders drawn in like he always does, like he's going to somehow escape Asahi's notice despite his intimidating stature. Even without his stature, Asahi always found his eyes drawn to Aone anyways - under his gaze even now, he watched Aone's cheeks heat up, can tell that he's second-guessing whether or not his question was irrelevant or stupid. 

"Y-yeah. That's okay, right? You didn't have any plans?"

The older of the pair is quick to stop Aone's train of thought from drifting in a more negative direction, but now he's wondering if he's somehow interupted some sort of plan that Aone had for the night. Both of them liked to cook, Aone even moreso; he was a talented chef who took special pleasure in preparing meals, and although Asahi usually let him, he thought it would be a nice gesture to make dinner tonight.

"I-- no, uhm, but can I make dessert?" Aone asks, with a sort of intent that Asahi doesn't see out of him very often. The two of them are relaxed, casual; any sort of drive comes hidden in stammering sentences and flustered blushes that keep them from getting too far in their intended statements. Blinking in confusion at Aone's drive to make dessert, Asahi pauses, but then nods in return.

"... Of course." Asahi reassures him, and wonders exactly what dessert Aone is going to make. He's good at that, like he is at many things, but the two of them both have a bit of a sweet tooth and it's exploited far too often between dates and either of their kitchens. Turning back towards the vegetables he'd started to slice, he startles when he feels Aone's arms sneak around his waist, the feeling of being the smaller person still catching him off guard, even now, even after they'd been dating for who knows how long (he knows. It's been seven months, a week, and four days). 

Aone mumbles a quiet apology to him for surprising him, and then presses a brief kiss to the cusp of his ear before he pulls away, disappearing somewhere into the apartment. Asahi shrugs slightly, raising a hand to trace tenderly across where Aone's lips had rest only a moment before. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks and shakes his head vigorously, forcing himself to focus back on the task at hand before he slices into the calloused skin of his favored spiking hand.

\---

It's nearly the end of dinner, and Asahi wonders if he's forgotten something important from the way that Aone seems jittery, sitting across from him at the small four-person table, from the way that Aone can't really seem to sit still or meeting his gaze for longer than a few moments.

Absentmindedly pulling on a piece of hair that's fallen from his bun, he looks over to Aone, who even now has his gaze fixed on the kitchen. Is he that concerned about dessert?

"Uhm, is everything okay, T-takanobu?" Asahi is intrigued enough to ask, and Aone's head whips back towards him, light eyes wide with the air of someone who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Y-yeah! Of course...!! I was just thinking about, er, making dessert! I really want you to like it, uhm, oh, didn't you say you wanted to shower? I can make it while you shower!! T-that, yeah!"

Aone's got some sort of excited, nervous, apprehensive look to his face, and the emotions are contagious - well, primarily the nerves, because Asahi is feeling a little jittery now, as well. Usually Aone likes when Asahi stays with him in the kitchen while he cooks, because he likes feedback and to offer the mixing spoon to Asahi to lick mid-process, but this time he's practically rushing Asahi out of the kitchen. Both of their dinners are finished, but barely so; Aone isn't usually so rushed. Asahi hasn't seen him so rushed since the two of them tried to express their mutual desire to do something more than just kiss, and before that, he hadn't seen Aone so flustered since he tried to confess using a stack of messily-written index cards as cues.

"Oh, s-sure... I'll go shower now, then. Let me at least grab the dis--"

"I'll get those!" Aone sweeps up their dishes in one fell motion, and Asahi is left slightly confused as to how the other male did that so fast, and to why he's being so strange. Although the two of them are certainly still shy, more introverted people, they'd taken a lot of steps to at least be less so (or try to be less so) around one another, and that included a lot of honesty between them. Asahi's got a distinct feeling that Aone is hiding something from him, but he knows better than to rush as Aone presses a hurried kiss to his forehead before bringing the dishes to the sink and rapidly beginning to rinse them.

Asahi frowns, biting at the skin of his cheek, and then heads off to the shower.

\---

Asahi's barely out of the shower, hair still wet and dripping and towel still wrapped around his waist, when he hears a knock at the bedroom door. Despite his embarrassment, he calls out for Aone to enter - they've seen each other in less than a towel, but he doubts that he will ever feel 100% confident in the nude in front of Aone... even partially.

Aone steps in, red-faced as he does, with a bowl and spoon in his hands as he nudges the door open. 

"Dessert's finished..." Aone says, not making eye contact with Asahi.

"Oh!! I'll, er, I'll be right down. I'm going to put pajamas on." Asahi is slightly puzzled as to why Aone came to his room to let him know - he was going to come back to the kitchen once he was dressed - but doesn't think too much of it, stepping towards his closet.

"That... w-won't be necessary. Your dessert is downstairs, b-but.. uhm.. I h-have... mine... here..." Aone's barely getting the words out now, and Asahi looks at him with wide eyes, not quite wrapping his mind around whatever is being said here. Why is Aone bringing dessert up here? Moreso, why is it in a bowl? Is it some sort of pudding...?

As if sensing his confusion - and as if needing to continue on before losing courage - Aone doesn't give much time for Asahi to answer, quickly adding on,

"I w-was wondering if I c-could eat it... off y-you." 

Asahi does not think he's heard correctly. His mind reels, tongue flickering nervously over his lower lip, the only sound between them their breathing and the sound of Asahi's wet hair dripping onto the carpet. When Aone doesn't say anything else, nor does he make an effort to correct himself, Asahi realized that Aone is, indeed, serious, and his heart begins to race.

Even as his face heats, he finds himself nodding. "S-sure." He whispers his consent, and Aone's features, although still seemingly frightened of rejection, brighten, and a smile smoothes across his face. 

"Lay back...?" Aone suggests, more confidence in his voice now that Asahi hasn't shot down his plan for dessert. Asahi sits on the edge of the bed, and is just about to lay back when Aone clears his throat, causing him to pause.

"Without your towel?" 

Asahi splutters, but his hands - quivering with some sort of nervous excitement - shift to his towel, which he drops to the ground, trying to ignore the fact that something about the fact that he is fully nude whilst Aone is still in an apron and full clothing has him somewhat aroused. He settles back onto the covers and shifts towards the head of the bed, resting back on the pillows that are strategically arranged for him to recline. Typically, that's used for reading, but he finds he isn't particularly adverse to finding out the newest benefits.

"Close your eyes?"

Aone never forces, but Asahi's eyelids flutter closed like it's an order.

"G-good boy." Aone murmurs, suddenly much closer to Asahi, a minute or so after his eyes have fallen shut. Asahi ignores the wave of warmth that comes with the praise - his liking for praise is something that was discovered by the two early on, and Aone is not only natural at giving it, but something about the way he delivers it - quiet, often with a stammer, but strong - goes straight to Asahi's groin. 

"T-tell me if it's hot, please." Aone murmurs, and then Asahi feels the first of... whatever is in that bowl, dripping across his bare skin. He gasps, eyes wrenching open, and Aone stops.

"Shut them." This is more of an order, and Asahi shivers with it despite the relative warmth - just cool enough not to burn - of the substance on his chest. He closes his eyes again, and Aone resumes.

He isn't sure if Aone is drawing patterns, but the dessert is all over his pectorals, trailing over his stomach. The spoon that Aone's using drags a little sometimes, and the weird sensation of hot metal is enough to make Asahi's breath grow shallow. He doesn't know what's so sensual about this, but he can feel his arousal increasing - he's aware of the fact that he is at least half-hard now, and his cheeks burn with the shame of not being touched.

"You're holding so still. You're so good..." Aone's worst are quiet, and then accompanied by a large amount of the liquid - it smells like chocolate, Asahi decides - on his nipples. Asahi jolts, the warmth making his back arch a little bit, and then bites his lower lip in an attempt to keep himself silent in regret.

"I like hearing you." 

"S-sorry, it's... e-embarrassing..."

"... I don't think so."

Despite Aone's reassurances, Asahi keeps his mouth mostly shut as Aone shuffles around the bed, the sound of the bowl being set on the nightstand louder than it should be. After a couple of seemingly motionless moments, Asahi is surprised once again with the feeling of Aone's tongue, damp and cooler than the chocolate, against his skin. 

"O-oh!" Asahi gasps, hands clenching in the bedspread as Aone's tongue laves at the chocolate he's spread across Asahi's skin. He avoids Asahi's nipples at first in favor of the chocolate that's on his stomach, dipping his tongue into Asahi's bellybutton with a wet sound that has Asahi burning with the suggestiveness of it.

"T-takanobu." 

Aone pauses, and Asahi can see him in his mind's eyes, as his eyes are still shut, glancing up to him before he continues. Aone's tongue resumes its ministrations, tracing the patterns that he made earlier, and then all of a sudden he flicks his tongue across Asahi's nipple. Asahi moans, caught off guard, and doesn't even have enough time to apologize for the sound before Aone switches to the other nipple. The coolness of the air against his damp skin is enough for Asahi's skin to be extra-sensitive, the temperature change almost difficult to keep up with.

His hips buck slightly when Aone nibbles at the sensitive flesh, because it's just enough for Asahi not to feel pain; he mumbles Aone's first name again, hands aching to grasp at Aone's hair, but knowing he can't pin him in one place for this to work out.

"You're being so good, Asahi." Aone mumbles, and then presses a kiss that is most definitely chocolate-flavored to Asahi's lips. Asahi cracks open an eye, but somehow ever observant, Aone makes a noise of discontent to close them again. Asahi is fully hard now, his erection aching desperately for attention, and he supposes that Aone has noticed that by now, because after a few moments more, Asahi feels the chocolate being dripped onto his cock.

"A---hh!!" He doesn't know how to describe the sensation, really; it's warm, weirdly textured, and he can feel it dripping from the head of his erection to the base, and then pooling in the v of his crotch. Ever careful, Aone makes sure not to get any on the bedspread, which is somewhat of a miracle considering how his hands shake every time he uses the spoon to drizzle the dessert somewhere. 

Setting the bowl back more quickly this time, painfully aware of Asahi's need and his own, Aone glances up towards Asahi's face. Asahi knows his face probably looks ridiculous, his nose scrunched and his eyes screwed shut, his mouth fallen open a while ago; his breathing comes more heavily now, shallow but frequent. 

Leaning forward, Aone laves his tongue up the side of Asahi's erection, tracing the vein there that stands out prominently. Asahi groans, trying to keep his hips from bucking up against Aone's face, but with little success. One of Aone's hands trail up to his hips, pinning them there with the easy strength of only one large hand; the other dips into the chocolate against the base of Asahi's dick, finger moving up to spread the chocolate across Asahi's lower lip.

Asahi's face burns with the depravity of the action, and he can only imagine the redness of Aone's face. He's glad for the command to keep his eyes shut, if only for the fact that he might have died of sheer embarrassment by this point had he been able to watch Aone do what he's been doing. Despite this, he still lets his tongue trail over his own lips, licking up the chocolate (and trying not to think of where it's been). It's sweet, but not too much, and Asahi wonders how long Aone fretted over making it just perfec---

His train of thought is interrupted by Aone, who has gone from doing nothing to suddenly beginning to suck at the tip of his erection while working the base of his dick with his free hand. Asahi's back arches, desperate for a little more speed, a little more friction, a little more everything -- and Aone complies, sucking harder, bobbing his head on Asahi's cock and using his hand to tend to what he cannot reach with his mouth.

Asahi isn't sure how long it goes on, but he knows it hasn't been long (the size and stamina myth being positively correlated is just that - a myth). He feels the heat in his belly start to build uncontrollably, coiling tight like a spring about to be released, and he struggles to gasp out a warning to Aone, lost in needy moans and heavy pants.

"T-takan-n-o-b--- I'm--" 

If Aone heard him, he doesn't stop, and Asahi's eyes squeeze impossibly tighter and he comes into Aone's mouth, hearing the white haired male splutter around him as he continues to lick at Asahi's erection, even as he goes soft, even as he is overly-sensitive. The cool air makes him shiver, but not for long as Aone settles in beside him; Asahi would apologize, if his mouth would work properly. He's fairly sure he's drooling as Aone kisses his cheek, lips sticky.

"Good?" Aone mumbles when minutes have passed, enough for Asahi to be a slightly functioning, relatively normal person again.

Asahi turns his head towards him, eyes opening for the first time in a while to see Aone at his side, a bit of chocolate smeared across his cheek, lips a little swollen and eyes a little watery, sheepish but excited, and Asahi's chest is painfully tight as he nods.

"Y-yeah. If I had only known why you wanted to m-make dessert so badly..." Asahi says, a tiny, lopsided smile finding its way onto his lips. Aone's eyes widen before he laughs, the sound low and quiet and a little gravely.

"... I still made cake pops. For real dessert. And..." He glances over Asahi, towards the nightstand, and Asahi follows his gaze to the bowl where it rests, spoon still propped against its side. He stares at it for a few moments before he focuses in on Aone again, one hand reaching out to pull at the apron Aone still wears.

"Kiss the cook... I c-could do more than that." Asahi remarks, and he leans in to kiss Aone, simultaneously reaching to his back and untying the apron.


End file.
